Games
by allthingsdecent
Summary: Takes place after Let Them Eat Cake. Cuddy accepts a date with another doctor. House handles it...not well.


House was annoyed. It had been three days since he had gone out of his way— _moved mountains_ , one could even say—to get Cuddy's old college desk and she hadn't so much as thanked him. At first he figured she was just waiting to respond in kind. Something really huge, like a surround-sound TV for his office or, in his most far-fetched fantasies, the thong she was wearing that one unforgettable night at Michigan, gift-wrapped with a flirty note asking how could she possibly repay him.

The way he saw it, they had been playing a game: She acted like a jerk; he acted like a bigger jerk. They'd gotten into a rhythm of action and equal and opposite reaction—their own version of foreplay. It was hot. That was how he had justified the boob grab in his office. Just another round of the game.

But the minute her face fell like that, and he'd seen the disappointment in her eyes, he knew he had screwed up, big time. Hence the college desk. It was a huge gesture. Gallant even. And yet, nothing.

His impatience grew to the point where he decided to confront her on it. But as he made his way toward her office, he sensed the distinct buzz of gossip making its way through the hospital halls, and a few times he heard the name attached to that gossip: "Dr. Cuddy."

"You shouldn't gossip," he said to one of the new young nurses, who was huddled with her co-workers. "It leads to a toxic work environment. Also, tell me everything."

The nurse giggled flirtatiously. She was new enough to not be terrified of him.

"Dr. Cuddy and Dr. Vole," she said conspiratorially.

Dr. Eric Vole was the head of anesthesiology, 45, fit, divorced, beloved.

"Yes, you've just named two of the doctors at the hospital," House said impatiently. "What about them?"

"They're going on a date this Friday. Nurse Jeffrey overheard Dr. Vole ask Dr. Cuddy out. And she said yes."

House felt his neck get red, but tried to at least feign indifference. "Has the hospital gossip always been this lame?" he said, limping off before she could answer.

He continued to make his way to Cuddy's office, fuming, when a comforting thought occurred to him: She was still playing the game. For whatever reason, the desk hadn't been enough to satisfy her. She had just agreed to this ridiculous date with Dr. Vole—a man named after a tiny rodent, for fuck's sake—to get under his skin.

Smiling confidently, he barged into her office, without knocking. She was on the phone.

"Ahem," he said loudly.

She shot him a look, and then said into the receiver, "I'm going to have to call you back. Something _very annoying_ has just come up."

She glared at him.

"What?"

"I know about your date with Dr."—and then he made a sucking sound with his tongue teeth, like a rodent.

She straightened a bit in her chair. "Oh, that."

"Yes, that." He smiled.

"And why do you look so pleased with yourself?"

"Because I know why you said yes."

"I'm all ears."

"To mess with me."

She folded her arms.

"Really?" she said.

He shrugged. "Why else?"

"Because he's handsome. And eligible. And kind. And _he asked_."

"Please, you're not interested in that weasel. You can stop the charade now, Cuddy. No one's buying it."

"Everyone's buying it."

"They don't know you like I do."

"House, unlike you, I actually like my colleagues. I especially like Dr. Vole. I was thrilled when he asked me out."

He squinted at her, tried to read her face—she had a tell.

"You're serious," he said, dejectedly.

"Of course."

"And…that's it? There's nothing _else_ you want to say to me?"

"What else would I want to say to you?"

"Nothing," he said, huffily. "Nothing at all."

He limped out of her office and bumped right into Cameron, who was heading to the ER.

"What do you think of Dr. Vole?" he demanded.

"As a doctor?" she said, cautiously.

"No, I already know he's a shitty doctor. Do you think he's attractive?"

"He has great hair," Cameron admitted.

"If you weren't with Chase, would you want to have sex with him?" he said, a bit too agitated to be diplomatic.

"Oh yeah. Totally doable," she replied. Then she gave a knowing smile. "That Dr. Cuddy is one lucky lady."

"Chirst, does everyone in this hospital know?" House grumbled.

"How long have you worked here again?" she said, with a chuckle.

#####

The next day—Friday—House joined Cuddy and Wilson, who were already mid lunch.

"Wilson," House said, sliding next to him into the booth. "What do you make of a woman who receives a _priceless gift_ that someone worked VERY hard to obtain and never so much as says thank you?" he said.

Wilson, looked at him, not sure if he was supposed to respond.

"Well, I…"

"Wilson, what do you think of a man who always takes a game too far, and ends up being unspeakably cruel?" Cuddy said, biting purposefully on a breadstick.

Now Wilson looked at her, opened his mouth to answer.

"And what do you think of a woman who agrees to a date with a _sniveling rodent_ just to get another man's attention?" House said.

"I assume you're talking about Dr. Vole and he's actually very ni…" Wilson said.

"And what do you make of a man who is so emotionally stunted he runs away from even the tiniest hint of intimacy?" Cuddy said.

"Well…"

"And what do you make of a woman who is the queen of MIXED MESSAGES?"

"Without the specific de—"

"And what do you make of a man who runs away from someone who actually cares about him straight into the arms of _a hooker_?"

"And what do you make of a…" House started, then stopped. "Wait. . . What?"

"You know what," Cuddy said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Well, think on it."

And she took her tray and flounced off.

Both men watched her walk away.

"Something tells me neither of you actually wanted my opinion on this," Wilson said. "And what hooker?"

"I honesty don't—" House said. And then it dawned on him. "Oh, shit."

######

That night, House banged loudly on Cuddy's door, then waited, banged again. Finally, he heard footsteps and saw Cuddy's eye through the peephole.

"Oh no," he heard her groan.

"Cuddy, lemme in."

"Go away, House!"

"I will. After you let me in!"

Reluctantly, she opened the door. She was fresh from the shower—her hair was wrapped in a towel—and she was wearing yoga pants and crepey tee-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra. He tried not to stare.

"What do you want, House? Jed's going to be here in less than hour."

Oh crap. Her date. In his eagerness to clear the record, it had actually slipped his mind.

"This won't take long," he said, brushing past her and making his way to the living room.

She followed him, then folded her arms, waited.

"That woman you saw in my office," he said. "It's not what you think it was."

"Oh really?"

"No, you completely got the wrong idea."

"So she wasn't a hooker?"

He gulped.

"No, you got that part right."

She rolled her eyes.

"House, I'm busy."

"But nothing happened!" he said, quickly.

"So you just procured a hooker, to do what? Take dictation? Run the differential with you?"

"I hired her AS AN ACTRESS to teach a lesson to Kutner and Taub—do you know how much an actual actress charges?"

"That makes no sense."

"I can explain. Well, actually I can't without getting Kutner, Taub, and possibly me delicensed. But trust me. I was strictly taking advantage of her acting abilities."

"That's not the way it looked from my vantage point. It looked like she was all over you."

House scratched his head.

"We were flirting. That was all. You gotta believe me."

She studied him.

"Okay, I believe you," she said.

He heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank God," he said.

"You said your piece," she said. "Get out of here. I need to finish getting dressed."

He tilted his head a bit.

"You're still mad," he said.

"Brilliant deduction," she said.

"But why? I just told you nothing happened."

"Because she was flirting with you and you were _flirting back_. Like, how a man flirts with a woman. Touching her. Leaning toward her. Letting her know you desired her."

"I didn't desire her," House said. Suddenly, he felt trapped.

"That's how it seemed."

"You know how I act when I desire someone," he said, swallowing hard. "And it's not like that."

"You mean smashing a toilet with a sledgehammer?" she said, allowing herself the tiniest of smiles.

"Yes," he said.

"And pretending her presence gets on your nerves?"

"Yes."

She made eye contact.

"And grabbing her boob?"

"That…I regret. Hence the _incredibly thoughtful gift_ I gave you. Which, I might add, you still haven't thanked me for."

"I loved the desk," she admitted. "Best gift I've ever received. In fact, I was on my way to thank you when I saw you with the…actress."

He closed his eyes.

"I'm an idiot."

"House, I don't get you. We were playing a game, I'll accept that. And I'll even accept that it's our way of flirting. But I tried to get past that. I tried to be real with you. And you…cruelly pushed me away."

House bowed his head.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"But why House? Why did you do it?"

"I've given a lot of thought to that lately, needless to say," House said, cautiously. "At first I thought it was just a continuation of the game. You push my buttons. I push yours. But I think we both know it was more than that."

"We do," Cuddy agreed.

"Wilson, of all people, once told me that I was afraid to take a chance with you because it was too big a chance. I mean, it was psychobabble bullshit, but I don't know . . . maybe it had _some_ ring of truth."

"Maybe," she said, nodding.

He nodded back.

"So where does that leave us?" she said. Then she laughed. "Other than with Jed Vole picking me up for a date in—" she glanced at the clock on the mantle. "Shit! Twenty minutes."

"Call him," House said stubbornly, stepping toward her. "Tell him not to come."

"House, it's too late. He's on his way."

"Then at least let's…do what you wanted to do that day in my office. Let's kiss."

He stepped even closer to her.

"We already did that," she said, lamely. "You said so yourself."

"I want to do it again," he said. He yanked the towel off her head. Her wet hair fell onto shoulders, curling at the bottom. He pulled her toward him, pressed her body against his, began to kiss her. Their bodies melded, perfectly, and their tongues tasted each other's mouths. They both began breathing heavily, as their tongues grew more insistent. Boldly, House reached up under Cuddy's burnout tee. He began to finger her nipples. Now he had an erection, large and hard against her leg.

"House," she said, hot and bothered beyond measure, but also a little angry. She stepped back. "I thought you said kiss."

"This seemed like the logical next step," he said, smiling a bit.

"House…"

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered.

"No," she breathed.

He reached for again, now his hands were all over her breasts and he was kissing her neck, her throat.

"You feel so good," he moaned.

"So do you," she said.

He scooped her up with surprising ease. He was about to take her to the couch, when there was the sound of an engine being cut outside. Jed's engine.

"Shit!" Cuddy said, wriggling out of his arms. "Shit, shit, shit!"

For a second, she looked truly panicked.

"Hide!" she commanded.

"You want to me to… _hide?_ " he said. "That seems a little extreme. We're coworkers. Spending some time together. He doesn't know that we were about to make sweet, sweet love."

"I never said we were about…"

But there was no point in denying it.

"As long as he doesn't look at your pants," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Working on it," House said, grimacing a bit. Then he added, "You gotta get rid of him."

"Get rid of him? I will do no such thing. I'm going on that date."

"Cuddy, no. You can't. I'm in desperate need of … release."

"As the philosopher Jagger once said, 'You can't always get what you want.'"

"Isn't it what _you_ want, too?"

The truth is, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been this turned on. So much so that she— the most organized woman in the world—had completely lost track of time.

"Irrelevant," she said.

The doorbell rang. Cuddy made her way to the stairwell.

"Answer the door, let him in, and tell him I'll be down in 15 minutes. Then _leave_ ," she instructed, quickly ascending the stairs.

There was no point in arguing. House answered the door.

Jed Vole had a big, expectant smile on his face that completely dissolved the minute he saw House.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"You don't know?" House said. "I live here."

"You live here?"

Upstairs, Cuddy's hair dryer was on.

"Yes, Cuddy and I are together. You didn't know that?" House said, innocently.

Jed squinted at him.

"You're lying."

"Why else would I be here? We've been living together for going on, oh, 18 months now. Speaking of which, how rude of me. Do come in." He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, ushering Jed inside. "Can I get you a drink?"

Jed continued to stare at him.

"So you two have an…open relationship?" he said, trying to wrap his brain around what was happening.

"Something like that," House said, with a wink. "Scotch?" he said, pouring both him and Jed a glass.

"What does 'something like that' mean?" Jed said.

"We share," House said, clinking glasses.

Jed, who had just taken a gulp of scotch nearly did a spit take.

"You share?"

"Sometimes I bring home a woman. Sometimes she brings home a man. Pre-approved by both of us, of course. Have I ever told you that you have great hair?"

Jed's mouth dropped open.

"I have no idea if you're messing with me or not, House, but this is way too weird," he said, putting his drink down. "Tell Dr. Cuddy, I wish her well."

And he left.

House grinned, pleased with his handiwork. That had almost been too easy.

Just then, Cuddy came down the stairs, looking absolutely ravishing in a form fitting black dress and red-soled pumps.

"Why are you still here?" she said. "And where's Jed?"

"He, uh, had to go."

"House, what did you do?"

"I…may have told Jed that you and I lived together and I was expecting a threesome later tonight."

"You didn't."

"Not in so many words, but it was implied."

"You idiot!"

"You mispronounced genius."

"You know how gossip spreads around the hospital. Now everyone's going to think we're…swingers."

House laughed.

"I assure you, Jed was way too sexually humiliated to tell anyone. And besides, it's pretty ease to prove that we're, in fact, not living together—yet."

"Very funny, House."

"Who's joking?" he said, stepping toward her.

She held out her hand, pushed it flush against his chest.

"No way."

"Yes way," he said.

"If you think that you're going to come over unannounced, ruin my plans, lie to my date, and then have sex with me, you've got another think coming."

"You want to have sex with me," he said. "I was there, remember? You were as wet as I was hard."

"I did, maybe. Half an hour ago. I've come to my senses."

"Nooooooo. I just made Dr. Tiny Dick think I was bisexual so I could be alone with you!"

"You should've thought that one through," she said.

"You're really kicking me out?" he said.

"I'm really kicking you out."

"You do realize that what almost happened between us tonight is inevitable now."

"I…do," she admitted.

He thought he had her.

"You look absolutely incredible in that dress," he said, smiling expectantly.

"Goodnight House."

"Damn."

######

The next day, House finished his differential with the team and made his way into his office. He went to grab his ball to throw against the wall, but it was stuck—glued, more accurately—to the desk. Then he went to pick up his phone and the headset was glued to the receiver. In fact, everything on his desk was permanently affixed in place. He smiled, pleased.

"Let the games continue," he said.

THE END


End file.
